


Façade

by irua



Category: Mario & Luigi RPG (Video Games), Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Declarations Of Love, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irua/pseuds/irua
Summary: When Beanbean Castle is suddenly attacked by a curse left behind by the late Cackletta, Luigi is tasked with eliminating all traces of the witch—once and for all.... but why is he being asked to go alone?
Relationships: Luigi/Mamekku Ouji | Prince Peasley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 64





	Façade

**Author's Note:**

> this quarantine is making us write Some Shit y’all. been meaning to write a thing with these two for a loooong time, especially since there’s hardly any juicy content with em . thisll be a two parter because it got too long lol
> 
> also unbetaed so . mistakes are afoot most likely

“ _ Mama mia…”  _

Since the defeat of the Great Witch Cackletta and her pupil, Fawful, the Beanbean Kingdom had enjoyed a period of reconstruction and much needed peace. With Cackletta gone and Fawful nowhere to be found, the Beanish citizens had automatically assumed that they would no longer be subject to any of the Witch’s “ill gifts,” for she no longer roamed the land. For the most part, they were right in their suspicions. 

But at the same time, they’d also been  _ dead wrong _ .

The younger Mario brother stands—trembles—before the mighty stature of the all-too-familiar Beanbean Castle, gaping at the massive, thorned tendrils that are jutting out of the sides and roof. Given the Beanbean Kingdom’s agricultural history, he assumes the tendrils are not of the monstrous variety, but that they are merely thick, botanical vines. From a distance, he can just barely distinguish the smaller vines strapped all over the castle’s exterior (and possibly interior, but Luigi certainly does not want to enter that place). 

Luigi reminds himself as to why he’s even here in the first place. Queen Bean had sent a letter to Princess Peach; an urgent letter requesting immediate assistance. She had written that one of Cackletta’s dormant curses had suddenly taken effect on the castle, turning the royal gardens into a mutated mess of tangled foliage and, quite possibly, leafy creatures as well. It was a hastily yet delicately written letter that confounded Luigi, even as he—hesitantly—agreed to help out.

It did not confuse him because it was so short and lacked certain key details (for example, did Cackletta make an appearance? Was Bowser somehow involved? Was the castle attacked today or weeks ago?), not at all. What was most intriguing about the letter, and a bit scary in Luigi’s opinion, was the fact that Queen Bean had specifically asked for  _ Luigi’s _ help,  _ not _ Mario’s. Or even  _ both  _ of them!

_ “‘The entire Beanbean Kingdom is asking for Luigi to aid us in our current time of need…’” _ Luigi recollects aloud, staring at the vines that are bulging out of the castle’s entrance, devoid of the Beanish soldiers that normally guard it. He shakily inhales as he takes a tentative step forward, steeling his nerves and bracing himself for the absolute worst.

_ “Luigi!” _

Or not. The aforementioned practically jumps five feet in the air, whirling around to face the source of the noise. He gulps as he spots the advancing, gargantuan form of Queen Bean hurrying towards him, the ground lightly rumbling with each passing second. Lady Lima miraculously keeps pace with Her Majesty, her robe merely caressing the ground. 

“Y-Your Majesty…” Luigi nervously lifts his cap and bows before the Beanish monarch, his eyes flitting to-and-fro as he tries to bunch his nerves back together. Queen Bean cannot even muster a proper greeting before she is clasping both of the plumber’s hands in her own, hot tears running down her face. 

“Oh, Luigi! I cannot even thank you enough for coming—I apologize greatly for what has happened, and I sincerely hope neither you or the Mushroom Kingdom holds it against us,” she sobs, releasing his hands in favor of wiping her face. Lady Lima is quick to provide her with a handkerchief, which she gratefully takes to vigorously dab at her eyes. “I hope we haven’t disturbed you on such a lovely day…” Luigi masks his discomfort and further confusion with an off-kilter smile.  _ More things left unmentioned in the letter _ .

“Please don’t worry. Honestly, watching the house while Mario goes adventuring can be quite the snoozefest,” he says reassuringly, too nervous to pat her comfortingly and too unsure if he can even do such a thing to begin with. Even through her tears, Queen Bean finds it in herself to laugh at Luigi’s meager yet effective attempt to brighten the dismal situation.

“Ah! I can see why you were requested in favor of Mario!” she half-chortles, half-sniffles, fanning herself with her hands. “You’ve got wit to you!” Luigi has reached peak confusion, his brain flat-lining as he struggles to come up with the true meaning of those words.

“You mean you weren’t the one who requested me?” the green plumber blurts out, and Queen Bean pauses her laughter. Luigi is too shocked to even cover his mouth in embarrassment, but his cheeks flush a pale pink in response. Lady Lima shakes her head as Queen Bean begins to tear up again, her hands trembling against her chest. 

“Well, we were instructed by Prince Peasley to send a letter to Princess Peach requesting for assistance,” Lady Lima says slowly, motioning to the entrance of the castle with a sleeved hand. “We thought he would request the aid of the Princess’s militia, or even both you and your brother, but…” she then points to Luigi, “he specifically requested that we ask for  _ you _ and  _ only _ you. As to why that is, we haven’t a single clue.”

That bit of information hits Luigi like an ill-placed Thomp on the outskirts of Bowser’s Castle, his mouth going dry and his heart suddenly skipping a beat. He tries his hardest to avoid thinking about the Beanish Prince at all these days, lest he get himself distracted for a few hours during important tasks. His hard work comes crashing down as he begins to daydream about the royal’s golden locks and dazzling smile—which also shatters as Queen Bean’s sneeze brings him back to reality.

“Maybe Cackletta’s curse has reduced his brain to mush,” she wails into the handkerchief, her sneezes and coughs sounding almost violent. Luigi ignores the sting that he feels at those words, instead returning to his fantasy of Prince Peasley until yet  _ another _ question darts into his mind.

“Where  _ is _ Prince Peasley?”

Queen Bean immediately turns and heads off into an unknown direction, leaving Lady Lima and Luigi alone on the bridge. The Queen’s advisor simply shakes her head and sighs, resting her weary gaze on Luigi.

“She cannot bear to hear this, but the prince is currently trapped somewhere inside the castle.” Luigi’s eyes bulge, and it must be noticeable because Lady Lima sputters to correct herself almost immediately. “Well, maybe not trapped, per say, but after he entrusted us with the letter’s contents, he charged into the castle by himself and has yet to return,” she pauses to check her watch, “as of right now, he has been in there for five hours.” 

_ “Five hours?!”  _ Luigi exclaims, no longer able to contain his panic. “Holy cannoli—what am I still doing here?” He swiftly turns to run into the castle, but Lady Lima suddenly has a strong grip on his wrist and he nearly twists his ankle in the process.

“You must be very careful,” she warns him, her voice now coarse and low. “No one else has gone inside to see what is in there, and if the prince is having a difficult time…” Although she does not finish the sentence, Luigi understands what she is trying to convey. He quickly nods his head, his nerves aflame with anxiety and vigor. 

“Tell Queen Bean that I’ll rescue her son and end Cackletta’s game, once and for all.” Somehow, Luigi manages to speak clearly and honestly, his resolve firm and evident in his voice. Lady Lima smiles at him, her eyes crinkling as she regards him with an unfamiliar look.

“That I will,” she concedes, and she hastily turns Luigi back around. He lets out a sharp yelp as she practically whips his back with her sleeve, cackling at his reaction. “Now go!”

As he runs into the embrace of darkness, Luigi’s heart ricochets in his chest at the thought of the prince directly asking for  _ his _ aid.

He can’t help but relate it to a prince asking for a suitor.

.

.

.

The corridors and hallways are completely empty, sans for a few vines and unrecognizable flowers that have begun to sprout all over the walls and broken windows. Now that he’s closer to them, Luigi can see how the leafy tendrils pulsate alongside the floor, sending shivers up his spine. He sincerely hopes that there is no mutant Piranha Plant waiting for him inside the throne room, both for his sake and for Peasley’s.

_ Speaking of Peasley _ … Luigi scuttles over into the throne room, his crystalline blue eyes darting all over the place in hopes for a glimpse at the prince. His shoulders sag in disappointment when he sees only the same old green vines sprawling across the room, the foliage slinking down from the ceiling. There’s a particularly large clump of smooth vines slowly swinging back and forth above the queen’s throne almost menacingly, but as the prince is nowhere to be seen, Luigi can care less. 

That is, unless he spots the faintest fleck of gold within the mass of green.

“Prince Peasley!” Luigi gasps, making a beeline for the captive royal. As he gets closer he can make out his face within the vines, and he notices that he’s asleep.  _ Well, no wonder he hasn’t come out in five hours,  _ Luigi mutters to himself,  _ he’s been taking a nap this entire time. _ He has to admit; he’s relieved the prince isn’t in the stomach of some plant or encased in a cocoon of thorny vines. But at the same time, he’s being confronted with a puzzling situation.

Luigi has brought along his hammer as a precaution, but he can’t use it on the vines without also flinging Peasley against the wall, so that’s out of the question entirely. He also hasn’t forgotten how to use Thunderhand, but if he isn’t careful enough, zapping at the vine might cause the whole thing to catch on fire or even  _ explode _ . The younger brother shudders, not wanting to imagine Peasley being caught in the crossfire.  _ Literally _ .

Glancing around the room, he searches for any signs of the prince’s trusty sword, an ivory rapier that he vividly remembers being used to jab at his bottom. The sunlight shines sporadically through the shattered, stained glass windows, the broken pieces on the ground reflecting bits of light onto the withstanding parts of the ceiling. Luigi’s eyes light up as he is struck by an idea. 

He rummages through the glass shards, picking two of the largest and sharpest from the floor. He carefully places the pieces in-between his gloved fingers, creating pseudo-claws for his next endeavor. He stares at what he can visibly distinguish as Prince Peasley within the tangle of vines and frowns. If he wasn’t afraid of hurting the Prince, he might have sliced the vine however he wanted—without any particular care. Mindless swinging isn’t an option; if he can’t even see where his legs are, then he won’t be able to extract Peasley without accidentally cutting off one of his limbs as well. 

“Your Highness…” Luigi murmurs softly as he places his free hand on the clump of vines, stilling it completely. To his dismay, the Prince doesn’t react, his breathing slow to indicate he is still fast asleep. Luigi pouts.  _ Who’d have thought Peasley to be a heavy sleeper? _ He shakes himself from his thoughts to focus on the task at hand. “Please forgive me if this throws you to the floor…” he mumbles as he begins to cut away at the plants, starting with the thinnest stalks before tackling the thicker ones.

It feels like an eternity has passed by the time Luigi has  _ finally _ sliced through enough vines for the rest of Peasley’s body to become visible. He’s hanging upside down, still wholly unaware of the tedious pain the plumber has just put himself through to help him. Luigi can also see what appears to be sap sticking to the royal’s clothes, making him grimace and blush at the same time. “Alright, sleepyhead, let’s get you out of here…” he says as he reaches into the pod and wraps his arms around the prince’s body, gently pulling him out from his botanical prison. 

“Phew,” Luigi wipes his forehead with his unoccupied sleeve, carefully laying Prince Peasley down on his back. His body has barely brushed against the floor when his eyes suddenly open, startling Luigi so much so that he lets out a noise that sounds like a tropical bird’s mating call mixed with a cat experiencing a bath for the first time. Luckily, the latter is too focused on the fact that his plea has successfully garnered the response he wanted, rendering himself completely oblivious to whatever sound just came out of Luigi’s mouth. 

“Ah! You came!” is the first thing Peasley says, which is enough to make Luigi forget about the embarrassing noise he just made. The Beanish Prince’s smile is contagious, even more so as he suddenly leaps forward to encapsulate his rescuer in a hug. “Oh, Luigi! I’m so happy to see you—I could just  _ kiss _ you!” Before he even has a chance to process that sentence, he feels a tug on his overalls as a soft pair of plump lips briefly press against his own, the moment as fleeting as a summer’s breeze. The plumber’s face flares bright red, and he pleads weakly to the stars above for it to go unnoticed by Peasley. 

“Wh—” Luigi takes a moment to recollect himself, his cheeks still dusted with pink. Nevermind that he has  _ just _ been  _ kissed _ by the absolute  _ last _ person he’d  _ ever _ expect a kiss from. He still has a job to do—and  _ maybe _ he can try his luck later. “Why— _ well _ —what h-happened here? To you?” He’s pointing to what remains of the green cocoon, hoping the other can understand what he’s trying to ask. After Peasley’s little “stunt,” he’s having a hard time forming complete thoughts and sentences.

The prince merely chuckles as he gazes upon the sorry mass of torn vines, performing his signature hair flip as he begins to explain himself. “As you may have heard, I was attending to Cackletta’s late joke of a curse when one of those condemned flowers sprayed me with an anesthetic sap, prompting me to sleep for an hour inside of that pod.”

Luigi hums nervously. “Actually, Lady Lima told me that you’ve been in here for five hours.” Peasley’s eyes widen, yet his smile remains intact.

“... five hours, then,” he corrects himself, wiping the excess liquid from his clothing. “And now you’re here! Let us hurry to the court gardens before the situation becomes dire.” Prince Peasley quickly hoists Luigi up off the ground, the other enthralled by the fact that his hand is being held by the Beanish royal. But there are many thoughts and questions plaguing his brain, and he isn’t sure if he should ask them just yet. He decides to ask him the first thing that comes to mind.

“What happened to your sword?” Luigi inquires, immediately noticing that the weapon is not at Peasley’s side, which he had assumed earlier when he couldn’t find it. Peasley places his hands on his hips, surveying his surroundings with a pensive stare. 

“It was by my side when I was fighting the rogue flowers,” he begins slowly, as if piecing his memories together. “I suppose they must’ve known I’d be able to cut them up if it was in my possession, so it is most probable that they took it from me.” 

Luigi balks. “T-The plants are s-sentient?” He may be afraid of ghosts, but sentient plant life can be just as terrifying. Prince Peasley merely tilts his head to the side, pondering the thought.

“To a certain extent. They cannot speak, but it appears they can understand spoken language and can form their own thoughts,” he says, glancing back over to the pod. “Which is precisely why we must off whatever is causing this destruction as soon as possible!” Luigi shakes off his uneasiness as he feels a sudden surge of confidence wash over him, and he thinks that, perhaps, this is the power of Prince Peasley coursing through his veins. 

But there is still something that’s worrying him. Luigi regards the other with an unsure look, his mouth set into an uneven line. “Will you be okay without your sword?” he asks quietly, internally panicking over the fact that he may or may not have just inadvertently insulted the prince.  _ Of course he’ll be okay _ , he internally yells to himself,  _ he’s Prince Peasley! Remember how he rigged a fully functioning  _ **_bomb_ ** _ and blew up Bowser’s castle? _

“Of course! I am a threat with and without my sword,” Peasley flips his hair again as he smiles softly at his concerned companion, and Luigi’s heart skips another beat. “I am not concerned for my well being—not when you’re here by my side.” The plumber struggles to remain upright, lest he accidentally swoon in front of the prince. Has Peasley always been this…  _ friendly _ to him? He blinks out of his stupor— _ focus, Luigi! _

Luigi slugs his hammer over his shoulder, his face alight with a mixture of anxious pride. “Then I’ll do my best to protect you, Your Highness,” he affirms with a bow of his head, briefly lifting his cap with his free hand. To his confusion, Peasley begins to laugh, gently swatting at the air. 

“Ah, Luigi! Please do not be so formal!” he says with a bounce, placing his hands back onto his hips. “Call me Peasley! How would  _ you _ feel if I kept referring to you as ‘the youngest Mario Brother’?” Luigi immediately looks away, raising a hand to his face to mask his blushing.  _ Why am I blushing? _ On one hand, he has just been called out by Peasley, on the other, Peasley may have hit too close to home for him, but most importantly, he has just told him to forego proper etiquette—which is absolutely  _ nuts _ coming from a  _ prince _ .

“Well… you got me there…” Luigi mumbles, certain that Peasley will be able to hear him regardless. He sticks his hand out to him as he turns to face him, a grin on his face. “It’s an honor to fight alongside you again, Peasley.” He can’t help the slight shudder that wracks his body as the name leaves his lips.  _ Stars, disobeying etiquette has never felt so  _ **_good_ ** _.  _

Prince Peasley stares at the hand before him, unblinking until he clasps it with his own. “And it is a pleasure to be by your side once more!” Luigi gives a firm shake in an attempt to distract the other from his pink cheeks, his gaze already drifting away to somewhere else. He fails to notice the fact that the cocoon he would have liked to shred into pieces earlier is no longer hanging above the queen’s throne. 

Luckily for him, Peasley is all sorts of attentive today. “Hey, where have all those vines g—” The prince’s hand slips from the plumber’s—actually,  _ all _ of Peasley slips from Luigi as he’s abruptly lifted into the air, and Luigi quickly spots the green tendrils that are wrapped around the royal’s ankles. 

“Luigi! Behind you!” Peasley yells as he’s suddenly flipped upside-down, and Luigi instantly whirls around to hammer two slinking vines into the ground. A frantic grunt from Peasley alerts the plumber to the center of the room, where the plants have decided to hang the prince by his ankles. This means that the laws of gravity are in effect, as evidenced by the way Peasley’s tunic is turned over his belt, exposing his royal undergarments. Luigi allows himself a quick glance before looking away entirely, noting that he’s wearing  **_bloomers_ ** .  _ Huh,  _ he thinks, his mouth slightly agape.  _ Must be a cultural difference. _

“Luigi!” he hears him shout from almost the ceiling, his face more than dusted with pink. “Now’s  _ not _ the time to be so modest!” Luigi’s face flushes again as he wills himself to look at Peasley—more importantly, to analyze the vines that are holding him up in the air. He can’t do anything with his hammer, which narrows his choices down to Thunderhand… 

“Peasley!” Luigi shouts as he readies himself into position, his hands out and steady in front of him. “Brace yourself!” As sparks begin to crackle between his fingers, he watches as the Beanish royal attempts to  _ stretch  _ in mid-air, flexing his arms as he wriggles in the vines’ grasp. 

“Ready!” Peasley flashes him a double thumbs-up, and Luigi wastes no time in flinging a direct bolt of thunder just above the prince’s captive ankles. As soon as the shot is fired the plumber is already dashing forward, his arms outstretched and somewhat flailing. There’s an audible  _ snap _ from the vine and Peasley comes falling down, his face a mixture between panic and his trademark smugness.

_ “Oof!” _ Luigi manages to catch the prince, the force of the fall knocking him down onto the ground. Bits of green fall in pieces around him, and the plumber begins to chuckle hysterically. He’s too caught up in the moment to realize that he’s cradling Peasley to his chest, but he doesn’t seem to notice either.

“I d-didn’t think that would work!” Luigi says incredulously, pressing a hand to his forehead.  _ What a rush!  _ Peasley, a bit shaken from the sudden fall, doesn’t say anything, and that gets the other’s attention. “Oh! A-Are you okay?” Luigi quickly rises from the floor and sets Peasley down onto his feet, albeit a bit hesitant once the prince starts to sway a bit.

“Peachy,” the prince responds with a wink, pulling off a decent Princess Peach impression. He then rests a hand on Luigi’s arm to steady himself. “The blood is rushing to my head and back again,” he sighs, closing his eyes as he places his other hand over his face. “Just give me a minute.” Luigi nods, taking the time to scan the area for any other rogue plants. He smiles to himself as he spots nothing worth noting, glad to be safe for the time being. He doesn’t think he can handle any more surprises today.

The prince groans as he releases his hold on Luigi, dramatically draping an arm over his eyes. “The late Cackletta was not only the Beanbean Kingdom’s greatest witch,” he begins, uncovering his eyes to reveal an annoyed glare at nothing in particular, “she was, and still  _ somehow _ continues to be, a grand pain in my—” His features suddenly morph into one of genuine terror, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as he screams,  _ “DUCK!” _

Luigi practically flattens himself to the ground as Peasley does the same, narrowly avoiding getting sprayed in the face by the bulbous flower. The Beanish royal’s charming demeanor has vanished in favor of sheer panic, something the plumber would have never expected to see in a million years. It is almost unsettling for him to witness the normally cool and collected Peasley in such a distressed state…

A monster-esque rose slowly circles around the pair like a serpent, a green vine trailing behind it and its rosy petals pulsing as if it were actually breathing. Luigi can spot specks of shiny dust coating the petals’ surfaces, and he wonders if it's a type of poison or paralyzing dust.

“Luigi, you must listen to me,” Peasley whispers, his voice steady despite his whole body being obviously tense. “It will try to pounce on one of us. As soon as it does, smash it with your hammer, but whatever you do…” he pauses to swallow thickly, and Luigi notices that he’s stopped looking directly at him, “... make sure you don’t find yourself on the receiving end of that spray.” 

_ It must be poison _ , Luigi concludes as he nods to the prince’s plan.  _ No wonder Peasley is so nervous. If one of us messes this up… no, if  _ **_I_ ** _ mess this up… we could both die _ . He can feel his hands start to shake and he wills himself to remain calm, trailing his fingertips along the smooth wood of his hammer’s handle. He closes his eyes, focusing on the quiet shifting of the flower behind him. It’s getting closer… closer…  _ closer… _

Peasley’s words are like a knife cutting through the air.  _ “NOW!” _

Luigi barely registers his arms swinging forward until the hammer is successfully crushing its target, mashing almost blood red petals into the ground. As an aspiring gardener, this is the absolute worst and last thing he’d want to do, but he has no other choice. Peasley immediately raises his arms to cheer when a puff of sparkly dust suddenly strikes him in the face, prompting him to cough and flail his arms violently as he slumps to the ground.

“Peasley!” Luigi cries, leaving his hammer on top of the flower as he rushes to the prince's side. He gently grabs a hold of his shoulder, coaxing Peasley to kneel upright instead of hunching his back. “Are you alright?” He can’t identify any anomalies other than the sparkles on Peasley’s skin and concern begins to coil within his stomach.

Peasley says nothing as he attempts to stand, ultimately failing as his legs start to wobble uncontrollably. “Luigi,” he breathes, his gaze heavy with something uncertain and his voice incredibly raspy, “I-I need—upstairs, water, hurry...” The aforementioned wastes no time hoisting his companion up onto his back, too lost in his thoughts to notice the near-moan that has escaped from the prince’s lips. 

.

.

.

Peasley has directed him to the upstairs bathroom, a rather large room with green, ivory tiles and a smooth, porcelain jacuzzi-esque bathtub. Or maybe it  _ is _ a jacuzzi. Luigi can’t be bothered by its proper definition, because as soon as he sets Peasley back onto solid ground, the prince is  _ immediately  _ tearing at his clothing as he races towards the bath.

Luigi is quick to diverge his attention, his cheeks newly pink and his hands shoved into his pockets. He hears Peasley scramble with the valves of the tub, followed by the earnest and fervent splashing of water, gargling and spitting, and the prince’s own heavy breathing. 

“Luigi,” he gasps suddenly, snapping him out of his stupor. “I need you to scrub my face—quickly…” Iridescent blue eyes connect with the inky black of the prince’s, and it takes some of Luigi’s willpower to remember how to breathe. Peasley looks  _ extremely  _ wanton in the tub—which is, luckily enough, high enough to cover his waist and everything below—his face flushed and his hair a handsome, golden mess.

Luigi, however, raises a hand. “Your clothes—”

_ “I don’t care,”  _ Peasley says simply, almost  _ whining _ , and that shuts Luigi up. “Forgive me for my rudeness, but if you don’t wipe my face into next week, I’m going to— _ mmph—” _ Luigi has taken the towel that Peasley was holding, mumbling a brief apology as he begins to rub the sparkly dust off of the prince’s face. 

_ Whatever you do, don’t look down _ ,  _ don’t look down _ … is the mantra that has begun to echo within the plumber’s brain as he handles his current task. Peasley has his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted, and his head tilted up towards Luigi so that he can properly clean his face. And it’s driving the poor plumber absolutely  _ wild.  _ He’d love to forget about his overall mission in order to claim those lips with his own once more, to hold the other close to his heart until neither of them remain, to—

A trembling hand clutches Luigi’s active wrist while another latches onto his waist, not-so-subtly reminding the Mario Brother of the current situation. Luigi tries not to think  _ too _ hard about the prince’s hands until the one on his waist begins to slowly trail  _ downwards _ , and he thinks he may just lose his mind. Luckily, he has managed to scrub off most if not all of the sparkles that had so rudely decorated Peasley’s face, pulling away from him almost immediately.

“Done! I-I tried my best,” Luigi stammers, glossing over Peasley’s flushed cheeks before looking back at the door. “You should, um, take a bath—just in case!” He catches the other nodding slowly in the corner of his eye, already reaching forward to turn the valve. The plumber narrowly avoids peeking at the prince, who has now fully removed every piece of fabric that may have remained on his body.

Since he feels like he has intruded enough on Peasley’s personal space, Luigi forces his hands behind his back and practically jogs out of the room. Just as he’s reached the door, he hears something that freezes his blood and makes him stop dead in his tracks.

_ “... won’t you join me?” _

The room has gotten a  _ lot _ hotter, Luigi notices, and his mouth suddenly feels  _ very  _ dry. He allows himself to  _ just barely _ turn his head so that he can at least  _ see  _ Peasley as he gives him his response, but any possible words he may have had ready to say are nowhere to be found once he lays eyes on the prince. 

One of Peasley’s arms is dangling from the side of the tub, the other being used to cushion his chin that’s resting on the edge of the tub. He looks quite feverish, yet there’s something in his gaze that Luigi can’t quite place at the moment. And as much as the plumber would  _ love  _ to join the prince, they currently have an important problem to deal with  _ and _ he’s fairly sure that Peasley  _ isn’t _ wholly aware of what he’s saying right now.

“I-I-I’d keep you company, but—” Luigi rapidly gestures to one of his hands, his face beet red. “I d-don’t want to risk shocking y-you with Thunderhand.” While not a direct truth considering he  _ can _ control the ability, the chances of activating it accidentally are still there,  _ especially _ if he’s distracted  _ and  _ in a body of water. “In the meantime, I’ll go f-fetch some clothes for you.” And with that, he’s out of the room and into some fresh, cool air to clear his head.

Heartbeat thrumming wildly against his chest, Luigi smacks his face with both of his hands as he stands in the empty hallway.  _ You’ve done it now, Weeg!  _ But what else was he supposed to do? He’s had his fair share of intimate fantasies of the prince, but  _ none _ of them involved taking advantage of him! The taller man keeps his head down in thought as he walks in an aimless direction, hoping he’ll somehow come across the royal quarters.

_ But wait a second… why  _ **_is_ ** _ Peasley acting like that? Is it the dust making him unbelievably horny? _ Luigi coughs as the thought lingers, instinctually brushing a finger under his nose.  _ Of course, assuming he  _ **_is_ ** _ horny, because his actions definitely make him  _ **_seem_ ** _ like it _ … No wonder the prince nearly fainted upon seeing that flower suddenly appear out of nowhere. If Luigi had known what it was capable of beforehand, he would have reacted even worse. 

_ Plus, we won’t be able to lift the curse if Peasley’s not in the right mindset _ , he reminds himself, lifting his head up to glance back at the bathroom. He can’t fight if the prince keeps trying to jump his bones, which is something he  _ definitely _ can’t say he’s used to. Luigi sighs, slowing his strides once he reaches what he assumes is Peasley’s bedroom.

_ He’s only like this because of the dust—you know that, right? As soon as this is all over, he won’t ever speak to you again, let alone even  _ **_look_ ** _ at you. _

Luigi unconsciously chews on his bottom lip, willing himself to blink back the tears he hadn’t realized were welling up in his eyes.  _ Still… it would be nice to even be in the same room as him, even just for a short while. _

Resting a hand on the doorway’s golden frame, he shoves his pining emotions under a sack of reason and rationality, inhaling sharply as if he’s suddenly been stabbed in the heart. 

_ For his sake, I don’t mind waiting days for him to feel better. I’ve been pushing these feelings down for as long as I’ve had them—why should this be any different? _

_. _

_. _

_. _

With one arm draped by not one, but  _ two  _ princely tunics and a pair of bloomers, Luigi is in no rush to return to the bathroom. Surely the prince must have finished washing up by now, but he could wait an extra minute or two. After all, it hadn’t taken him  _ that  _ long to find the right closet.

And when he counts to ten to decide when to pick up the pace a little, he spots a few vines sprawling out from under the bathroom door, and that’s when he makes the decision to run like _hell._

“Peasley?!” Luigi shouts from behind the door as he tries to swing it open, gritting his teeth once he meets a significant amount of resistance from the vines below. He stomps on the green tendrils like they’re insects, reducing their insides to mush under the soles of his shoes. Finally, the door gives way to light and Luigi rushes inside, completely unprepared to witness the spectacle in front of him.

Prince Peasley is … well, Luigi isn’t quite sure  _ what _ he’s doing, but it’s obvious that he’s still in the tub and that there are mutated roses pressing their petals against his skin and, to Luigi’s horror, leaving trails of sparkly dust behind. Peasley himself appears to be out of breath, his face more flushed and pink than it has been today, his pearly black eyes brimming with tears. He trembles and whimpers as the flowers continue to kiss along his body, and although Luigi can’t hear him say anything, his lips are moving and mouthing a single yet effective word:

_ Help. _

Luigi immediately takes the two tunics off of his arm and grips each one with his respective hands, letting the pair of bloomers fall to the ground. A resounding  _ crack _ echoes through the room as he uses the tunics to whip at the remaining vines, whose flowers recede in response to the sudden, loud noise. One gutsy rose even tries to spray Luigi, lunging forward from the edge of the tub. But the plumber is both faster and furious, his body twisting in a swift motion as he smacks the plant out of the air and straight into the floor. Pink sparkles litter the tiles beneath his feet as red and yellow petals are flattened completely, and this seems to scare the other plants out of the bathroom.

There’s hardly any time to celebrate as Peasley comes crashing over to the side of the tub, his hands frantically trying to secure a grip on the shiny porcelain edges. Luigi manages to grab him by the shoulders before he completely topples over, a gasp escaping him as he lays his eyes on the inside of the bath. The water is a light pink, shimmering with what he can only assume must be the dust from those accursed flowers. The faint sound of sniffling brings Luigi’s attention back to Peasley, his earlier rage now replaced with worry.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Luigi asks softly, and then his voice lowers, “they didn’t… touch you, did they?” Even through his trembling, Peasley manages a deft shake of his head. The plumber sighs in relief, instinctively pulling the prince into a hug, and that’s when he notices just how  _ hot  _ the other is to the touch. Immediately he pulls away, a pang of guilt wracking his heart once he sees how wide Peasley’s eyes have gotten in response.

“Stars, you’re  _ really _ burning up,” Luigi has cupped the latter’s face in his hands, wiping away any stray tears and their tear streaks with the gentlest wave of his fingers. He presses the back of his hand to Peasley’s forehead, noting how the prince seems to lean into his touch— _ or you’re just imagining things, Luigi _ . “It feels like you have a high fever…” he trails off as his eyes drift to the floor, visibly ashamed. “I-I’m really sorry, Peasley. I-I should’ve stayed with you when you aske—”

The world seems to dip into fantasy as Peasley leans in to capture the former’s lips with his own, silencing him completely as he grips the straps of his overalls with his shaking hands. A sudden warmth surges through his body, electrifying his nerves to the point where he thinks he’s actually activated Thunderhand for a brief second. The buzzing sensation convinces him that it is all just a dream, but the intense heat of Peasley’s tongue against his slightly chapped lips indicates that this is all so very  _ real _ . 

Luigi shivers under the prince’s blazing touch as spring green fingers dance along his arms and his chest, occasionally digging into his flesh as Peasley continues to press into the kiss. With a start, the plumber notices his own arousal beginning to flare up as the Beanish royal nearly rubs his body up against his own, and then he’s suddenly reeling his head back and keeping the other at arm’s length away. 

“P-Peasley…” Luigi breathes, almost pleadingly. His heart is speeding faster than an oddly colored hedgehog and his brain is on the verge of exploding. “This… I…” He trails off as he takes in Peasley’s face of what might just be utter shock and despair, the words dying on his lips. He allows Peasley to pull him closer, using his overall straps as leverage. 

_ “Please _ …” Peasley begs, his face buried in the crook of Luigi’s neck. “I  _ need  _ you…” Luigi is internally cursing at the heat trailing down to his groin, outright praying to Rosalina that it goes unnoticed by Peasley.

As his heart slowly shatters, Luigi forces himself to shake his head. “Peasley… we just  _ can’t _ do this right now…” he inhales sharply, enticed by the way the prince breathes hotly against his nape, “you aren’t yourself right now a-and … your mother is waiti—” He’s cut off as Peasley suddenly jerks away, wrapping his arms around himself as if he’d been hurt, and Luigi’s heart breaks at the sight.

_ “You don’t understand!”  _ he wails, covering his face so that he’s indirectly looking at the plumber from behind his fingers. The water has since drained from the tub, allowing him to hobble out with a towel in hand. Knowing that Luigi will just avert his gaze, he uses that brief moment to cover himself with a pistachio green towel, now standing a few feet across from Luigi. 

“You don’t understand…” Peasley repeats, his voice mimicking the movements of his body. His head is partway down, leaving his eyes visible—he’s staring right at Luigi.  _ “I’m  _ **_MORE_ ** _ than myself right now!”  _ His trembling exceeds previous records as he is forced to fall onto his knees, shaking like a leaf under Luigi’s gaze. Tears hit the tiles in small waves as the prince avoids looking at the former directly, meanwhile Luigi is struggling with his own thoughts.

He _truly_ doesn’t understand. The person quivering before him _isn’t_ the cool and pristine Prince of the Beanbean Kingdom… but rather, someone entirely _different_. _No,_ Luigi realizes, _this person is forthright and brash—almost unsuited to be called “prince.”_ _This someone is… honest._ _Emotionally repressed but completely unrestrained by any royal duties._

When a minute of uncomfortable sniffling turns into two, Luigi finally lowers himself so that he’s at eye-level with Peasley, who has reluctantly placed his eyes back upon him.

“Y-You genuinely  _ want _ to do this?” The plumber doesn’t need to elaborate on what “this” refers to, because Peasley is already nodding his head, perhaps a bit shamefully. “N-Not because of the dust?” Another nod, but this time it’s more urgent. 

“Based on your demeanor, I-I thought you would… accept me,” Peasley admits, briefly meeting Luigi’s surprised eyes before looking away again. A guilty look takes control of his features as he remains impervious to Luigi’s vibrant blush. “... but I was wrong, a-and for that I must sincerely apologi—”

He’s abruptly interrupted by Luigi, who has pulled him into a tight embrace and is resting his head on top of his own. “Don’t,” Luigi says simply, his eyes shut. “Your hunch was right. I-I only pushed you away b-because… I thought you only wanted to because you had no other choice…” He opens his eyes to gaze into Peasley’s, a sad, soft smile appearing on his face. “I was afraid that I’d be taking advantage of you… or that you’d regret it all afterwards,” he cringes, “... and  _ maybe _ I was nervous about being walked in on...”

Peasley releases his signature laugh—a bit airy and faint thanks to the dust, but nonetheless very much  _ him _ . “I knew my… current predicament was a possibility,” he shivers as he says this, his fingers digging into the towel wrapped around his body. He regards Luigi with an almost challenging look, “why do you think I only sent for  _ you?” _

Everything in Luigi’s headspace goes stark white, sans for that fact repeating in the depths of his subconscious. Suddenly everything makes sense, and he can’t help the surprised smile that’s slowly forming on his face. He’s never been more thankful for going on an adventure  _ without _ Mario!

“... I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been suspicious of that detail at first,” Luigi admits, his voice a mere mumble. Peasley shakes his head in slight disbelief, a giggle resounding from him.

“You think  _ I  _ would purposefully trick you?” 

The plumber merely shrugs in defense, a brief chuckle escaping his lips. “Well, what else do you expect? You barely mentioned any of this stuff in the letter, so excuse me for thinking all of this was a trap from the very beginning!” Peasley’s laugh is a short huff, yet it still manages to prove quite effective against Luigi given that he’s now looking away.

“I’ll forgive you…” Luigi watches in silence as Peasley languidly rises from the tiled floor, his hands gripping the towel that’s currently wrapped around his naked body. “...  _ if  _ you let me properly introduce myself to you.” Pistachio cloth falls from green flesh, and the world glows white before fading completely to black. 

Luigi collapses before the towel even hits the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> heheh whoops! i’ll get part 2 up n runnin soon (i hope)! hope this is enough to keep y’all waiting patiently for the next one ☆〜（ゝ。∂）


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